


A Penitent Man

by Emyrldlady



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:17:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emyrldlady/pseuds/Emyrldlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Does the punishment fit the crime?<br/>Set Post Cyberwoman</p><p>This is completely outside of my comfort zone. I have no idea where such dark ideas came from. If you like it then yes it’s mine. If you hate it then I was possessed.</p><p> </p><p>More of my LJ backlog</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Penitent Man

Ianto lay handcuffed to the bed. His pants lay on the floor, torn beyond repair when his lover had ripped them off his body in haste and anger. His suit jacket and shirt were ripped open, its buttons missing and strewn about the room. But his tie - that favorite red silk tie - lay perfect and unmarred along his bare torso, teasing his skin with each gasping breath he drew.

Hovering above him was his lover, whose deep blue eyes that normally sparkled with mischief now only held contempt. The smile he adored was now a snarl of anger.

“You think you’re my lover? My love?” he growled. “You’re nothing to me - nothing but a hole to fuck. You betrayed me. You betrayed us all, and you deserve to be used as my whore and nothing else.”

One of those hands that Ianto loved so much now held a fully-loaded Webley to his head while the other fisted his tie, slowly tightening it around his throat.

Ianto moaned and tried to lift his head for a kiss, and was rewarded with a backhand to his cheek.

“No, you don’t get to touch me; you don’t get anything you want now. You will never get another kiss from me again. You only deserve pain and humiliation,” his lover snarled.

Ianto’s thighs were roughly shoved apart as his lover - and now tormentor - rammed two fingers, only barely slicked with spittle, into his ass. Ianto was not being lovingly prepared; rather, he was stretched with the force needed to make room for the thick, hard cock that quickly replaced those fingers. His once-caring lover, still fully-dressed in his favorite blue shirt with only his zipper open and pants just low enough about his hips to expose his rigid cock, rammed into Ianto, as if he weren’t worth the time to undress.

Ianto let out a yell of pain and was backhanded.

“If you can’t keep your mouth shut, I’ll shut it for you,” his attacker growled. The tie constricted forcefully around his throat, stealing his breath and causing spots to appear in his field of vision.

“You are nothing but a hole; you’re nothing to me, you insignificant little piss-ant,” his assailant muttered, the words hot in Ianto’s ear. “You hid yourself from me, and now I see exactly what you are. You’re a whore - my whore; look at you! You’re pathetic, getting turned on as I take you.” The man thrusting hard inside Ianto smacked his growing erection. “You want it, don’t you? You know you do…you want me to take you like this because you know you deserve it, you sick, twisted little fuck.” Each word was punctuated by a hard, violent thrust of his hips.

Tears began streaming down Ianto’s face, pain and heartache mixing. He agreed completely; he knew that he was worthless and had deceived both Lisa and Jack. First he’d betrayed Lisa by offering his body to Jack; and then he’d done the same to Jack when he revived Lisa and nearly implementing world destruction. By the time she walked again, he was well and truly in love with both of them. His heart was torn in shreds that night and he felt like his guilt would never end.

“Is this what you want?” the darkly seductive voice whispered in his ear. “You want to pay over and over again? You want to let me use you for your atonement, begging for forgiveness that will never come? It will never come from her - she’s dead. I shot her and you still crave my cock, don’t you?”

Ianto nodded, afraid to speak. His movements were restricted by the hand that moved from using the tie to a more personal touch. His lover’s touch - that hand that had once offered him peace - now forced oblivion upon him as it tightened its grip. The loss of oxygen caused small gasps as his body instinctively strove for self-preservation. His arms rattled the cuffs that secured him to the bed.

The heavy smells of fear and sex permeated the room. “Not yet, Jones! You don’t get to pass out on me! I’m not done, and you don’t get to escape.”

The voice radiated heat throughout Ianto’s body as the other man brutally plunged into him. The gun that had been left by his head was now pointed at his face, the tip of the barrel nudging his lips.

“Open,” he grunted. Ianto complied, and the barrel of the weapon pushed past his lips and into his mouth. He tasted the gun oil, the bitter tang of metal, and his own fear.

“That’s it, you whore. Take it, lick it, and suck on it like it was my cock. You like my cock down your throat, don’t you, whore? You like it when I shoot down your throat? Think you’d like it if I shot down your throat now?”

Ianto tried to swallow, but was cut off by the hand tightening around his throat. The pressure increased with the erratic thrusts of the larger man’s cock as he neared climax. “C’mon, you pretty little whore, do your job! Get me off and maybe you’ll live.”

Ianto’s vision grew fuzzy with lack of oxygen, but he still bucked his hips wildly to meet the thrusts of the man above him, all the while sucking on the gun as if it were Jack’s cock. The thought of Jack’s cock in his mouth and pounding into him both frightened him and turned him on beyond belief. He shouldn’t be so turned on; this was his punishment. This was his penance.

He could feel the other man’s tension in the trembling of his body, and Ianto prayed he could satisfy him. “That’s it you whore, take it,” the voice above him growled. The light dimmed for Ianto, hovering on the edge of oblivion and praying for it to take him away from the pain- to spirit him away from the rats eating at his insides day and night.

Ianto’s body seized in ecstasy and he came hard, splattering himself and that soft blue shirt he loved so much. He felt his muscles contract hard around the thick cock pounding into him, and heard the scream as hot come shot inside him. The last of his awareness left him and his body went lax as he succumbed to unconsciousness, oblivion finally claiming him.

….

Ianto slowly regained consciousness and became aware of several things. He was now uncuffed from the bed, and had been divested of the tattered remains of his suit. He was propped comfortably on the pillows. His throat hurt like hell. He glanced at the bedside table to find a bottle of water waiting for him.

As Ianto took a few small sips from the bottle, the other man emerged from the en-suite, wearing fresh jeans and a clean white striped shirt. Small, metal-framed glasses perched on his nose. He smiled.

“Hey, how are you feeling? You scared me for a moment; you’ve been out a bit longer than usual.”

“M’fine,” Ianto croaked, looking the man over. The transformation startled him anew, though he’d seen it over and over these past months.

“Same next week, Mr. Jones?” he asked, picking up the envelope on the night stand.

“Yeah,” Ianto said.

It had taken him months to find Sean. It hadn’t been an easy thing to find someone who so closely resembled Jack - someone who could learn his script and didn’t fear Ianto’s twisted inner workings.

Sean glanced into the envelope and started. “Um… there’s a bit more here than usual, Mr. Jones.” He looked up at Ianto, still naked in the bed.

“I’m hoping its incentive. I’d like to change the script and add someone else to the mix.” Ianto handed Sean some neatly typed pages.

Sean nodded absently as he scanned them. “That’s fine, I’m good with adding a third. It says here her name is Lisa? But…what’s a Cyberman? Is there extra costuming needed?”

“Don’t worry, Sean, I’ve got it all covered.” After all, he thought to himself, Torchwood pays for my therapy.

 

.


End file.
